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James
I went toward the booths. Meandering until I found James’ meat stand. Seeing the chickens hanging upside down from the beam above on the right. Squirrels hanging from the right.
The scent of cooking pork emanating from a giant pit just behind the stand.
Cooked bird legs laid out on a platter.
My mother was there. Haggling with him over the price of some meat. Her long wavy brown hair running down her back. Telling me it was her.
Her shoulders were broad, and she was a small squat woman. But she made up for that in gentleness and intelligence.
Her voice was raising, and I could see father from the bakery giving me a meaningful look. He nodded toward the stand for me to go help her.
I swept my long hair over my shoulder to get it off my sweating neck and headed for the stand. I caught mom’s arm. She turned to me. Flushed and furious.
“What’s wrong?” I asked her in a quiet voice.
“He didn’t deliver the last chickens I purc
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